Dancing With The Devil On My Shoulder
by DoubleMMia
Summary: Hawke doesn't ask anything of Isabela most of the time, well not out-loud at least. But there are niggles and sometimes even themselves don't know when they will snap. F!Hawke/Isabela


**Dancing With The Devil On My Shoulder  
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><p><strong>This was for a fill at kinkmeme, the prompt was a 'non-canon' first time for HawkeLI and because I enjoyed rivalled Isabela very much, I decided to fill it. **

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><p><strong>I<strong>sabela didn't care much about what people thought of her; it was a general rule to the way she lived through her life - not caring what others thought and going at her own pace and making her own decisions that revolved around her. You only lived once after all.

Hawke didn't live like that and really that was a damn shame because Isabela had been so certain she'd like the mage the very moment she saw her in the Hanged Man a few years back, what with the bright blue eyes and the shoulder-length dark hair that curtained the black inked tattoo that covered most of the left side of the apostate's face.

She had looked like someone Isabela wouldn't mind kicking back a few drinks with, maybe a game of Diamondsback or some Wicked Grace and maybe, just maybe, she'd manage to worm her way into Hawke's bed in a matter of time.

Three years later her sexual escapade's did not involve Hawke whatsoever, in fact she didn't think they ever would considering how Hawke didn't seem to react to anything she did in any sort of positive emotion that wasn't either anger (at the more extreme cases) or indifference.

Well okay maybe Hawke had smiled at her once but that was the insufferable smirk she did when something had worked out alright that had managed to make look either Hawke herself look good or the city guard - and THAT was infuriating in the worst way possible.

"_For an apostate you really don't try hard to keep yourself concealed." Isabela remembered grunting at the mage across the table once as she read her latest dirty novel, sparing Hawke a glance to see that the apostate was already looking at her._

"_Pardon? Are you grumbling again? Isabela it's for a good cause." Hawke had responded with her usual look of apathy that had got Isabela's blood pumping so fast in her veins it was almost similar to having an adrenaline rush. "If the city guard can't handle some tasks I told Aveline we would help and we have; now no more complaining."_

"_Good cause my sodding arse." Isabela had grumbled with her feet coming up to rest on Hawke's lap; because if she couldn't bed Hawke then she was going to annoy the living shit out of her. "You're going to get yourself caught with all the publicity."_

_Hawke, predictable as always, smirked and shook her head. "I didn't know you cared so much Isabela. And get your boots off my lap, they stink of rat shit."_

_Isabela didn't listen and instead nudged the flat of Hawke's stomach with a playful smirk. Times like this made her believe that the two of them weren't all that different. Well, apart from the fact Hawke adored Aveline whereas Isabela was too busy trying to make the Big Girl loosen up a little._

The thing with Hawke is that she expected too much of her, too much more than Isabela is willing to give without fighting her own urges and desires and that's something she hated with a fiery passion - changing her mind for someone else and yet Hawke EXPECTED her to do so.

What made it worse was that Hawke never voiced her expectations to Isabela, oh no that would be too easy wouldn't it? Instead she silently watched her like some sort of silent, broody mentor that is waiting for her to think carefully about a situation and look at all the points of the view where Isabela didn't really want to do such a thing because why should she?

Hawke can't even hide behind the excuse that she's a misanthropic bitch that detested Isabela more than life itself because there are times (very small amounts) where Hawke and Isabela are just that; Hawke and Isabela, people with two very different idealisms on how to live their life yet they got on in a dysfunctional fashion that left the rest of their party feeling awed or very sorry for them.

And it isn't like Isabela hated Hawke (far from it) but it is like the devil is dancing on her shoulder every time she is in Hawke's presence, making Isabela want nothing more but to pull at Hawke's strings to see how far she would bend until she snapped; most of the time when Hawke snapped it meant that the aftermath was her and the apostate mage hurling insults at each other and occasionally a fireball or two - on Hawke's part anyway.

Sometimes Isabela even thought that Hawke liked having her around (if how many times Hawke banged on her door at Maker knows what time in the morning to get up and come frolic on another stupid mission was anything to consider) because she never did leave her behind for anything and she always made sure Merrill, Fenris or Varric was accompanying the usual dream team of herself and Aveline.

Maybe once she had finished this familiar bad taste of what she guessed to be the Hanged Man's homemade gin then she'd go find Hawke and ask her in that typical annoying way that either Hawke ignored or would get angry at.

Her own thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a cough and the clink of something that sounded like glass being placed on the splintered wood edge of the Hanged Man's counter, drawing Isabela's amber eyes away from the back of Corff's head towards what looked like a glass bottle.

With a ship in.

"I brought you something I thought you might like." And there's Hawke, jabbering in her ear with her blue eyes nonchalant and her pale cheeks oddly pink - a blush of all things. So. Hawke could get nervous too? Isabela found it hard to believe. Maybe it was embarrassment instead?

Isabela had to admit that the model of the ship is beautiful and the detail is intricate to look at even from where's she standing, but the thought that this gift was from a person like Hawke - the woman who silently expected everything off Isabela yet didn't ever tell her so - made something that felt like remorse creep upon her and all of a sudden her head was spinning like she was sea-sick.

Is this a way of Hawke taunting her? That little question alone turned the remorse that Isabela had been feeling into frustration and she turned her nose up at the glass bottle with a huff.

"Oh look, another ship I can't get into. What fun." Isabela scoffed smugly as a look of anger flew across Hawke's face, well good! If Hawke was trying so hard to put rules on her then she'd make her own damn rules of not caring one ounce at whatever Hawke got her. "Maybe I should just sit it right in front of me while I drink? And then I'll get Corff over there to get his musical instrument out and play a sad tune in the background; I'm sure that'd entertain SOMEONE."

Hawke's eyes aligned with hers and Isabela isn't scared of anything that isn't dark and close together but she's almost sure that Hawke's glare alone allowed her to feel an inkling of what it must feel like for of someone walking over her grave.

"You bitch," Hawke seethed through gritted teeth and the venomous anger that shaped the tone of her voice. "That bottle was _filthy_ from grime and shrapnel when I found it; it took me a whole week to manage to wipe away all the grime that clung to the ship and get rid of the pieces of shrapnel that had managed to break into the glass. Can't you accept the fact that maybe I did all of that because I actually do care about what your desires and dreams are?"

Isabela ignored the horrible logic in her head that told her that her and Hawke may not have been on two different sides at all; well at least not in the way Isabela thought they were.

She sniffed and turned away from the apostate, lifting her mug in the air to swallow down the rest of the gin. "I don't want your stupid ship Hawke." She got up then and pressed the glass bottle into Hawke's stomach, winding the mage temporarily as she stalked past. "Now goodnight and do something positively boring while I go find a ditch to lie in. I have heard they ARE quite comfortable."

Isabela didn't wait for Hawke's answer and waltzed out the Hanged Man with her mind buzzing from both alcohol and the tiny little edge of guilt she felt starting to creep up on her.

They were both different and anyone could tell that but Isabela would never not call Hawke a loyal friend even if Hawke was the most difficult person to get on with ever, so to reject Hawke point blank (lashing out at Hawke's obvious jab at her being selfish) was both exhilarating - in the way she could still show Hawke her dominance on her own being - and yet utterly unfair to the point that Isabela sighed at her own backlash at what she supposed was Hawke's idea of reminding Isabela of her past life at sea.

"Balls…" Isabela grumbled with a loud exhale, pinching the bridge of her nose and tilting her head downwards to stare at her feet. "Hawke's becoming a ridiculously bad influence on me."

It was why she found herself walking up the long stairway to Hightown.

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><p><strong>H<strong>awke stopped near the stairs up to the Chantry to see that the door to her estate was open with a slim sheet of bright, yellow light filtering through from behind the door.

Strange, she was sure she had shut it before she had went to find Isabela and give the ship in the bottle (the bottle that she had SLAVED over for days!) which hadn't ended as well as Hawke had expected or hoped really.

She made her way to her estate and once entering closed the door silently behind her, looking around the hallway to see if anyone was waiting for her before she hung up her velvet cloak and entered the main room with her eyes tracing over every other corner of the estate. It seemed like Bodahn was asleep from the sounds of the light snores coming from the side-room where the dwarf and his enchanter son slept but still the silence of the estate caused a some sort of eerie atmosphere.

"Mother?" Hawke called into the dim-lighted room with her brow furrowed and her eyes darting up towards the staircase where her mother's door sat left to it. "Mother! Are you - humph!"

A hand had enclosed itself around her mouth and with a shriek Hawke pushed out with her magic to shove her captor away from her with a growl, turning around to meet said captor in conflict until she actually saw who it was and flinched back with her heels hitting the back of her mother's armchair.

Isabela looked up at her from under hooded eyelids with a frown adorned on her lips and a hand that Hawke could see was clutching at something small in her hand was being rubbed against the back of the pirate's neck; it seemed like Hawke had managed to knock the smuggler off guard in her roughness.

Anger surged from the very loins of her bones the moment Hawke's eyes landed on the pirate, but she quickly suppressed such anger and instead placed the glass bottle containing the pirate ship on the little desk next to the armchair so she could offer Isabela a hand to help her up from the corner where the smuggler was sitting with a pout.

"I'm sorry," Hawke mumbled underneath her breath when Isabela took her hand to help her up. "I thought you were some sort of raider or mercenary that was going to use me for something. Or…You _know_."

Isabela smirked at her in reply and nudged at Hawke's hip with her own as she walked past, head tilted upwards to study the Hawke estate. "Sweet thing if I wanted to use you for something then you would already be tied up and gagged."

Hawke was glad that Isabela's back was facing her, she truly didn't believe she'd live down the teasing the pirate would assault on her if she caught sight of the flush that made her cheeks turn a sickly red colour.

"As if I'd enjoy that sort of activity," Hawke growled out with an irritated shake of her head; a wild attempt to clear her head. "I'm not as wild as you Isabela, you know that."

Isabela snorted and before Hawke can protest the pirate settled into the chair opposite to Leandra's armchair with her one leg crossed over the other and her chin resting on the palm of her hand. She looks the picture of an ignorant wench and Hawke didn't quite know if she hated it more than she was aroused by it.

She tried to ignore the voice that clearly told her the answer to that question by focusing her attention onto the small cabinet that held old vintage wine that Fenris had given her as a present, opening up the glass door and taking out a bottle and two glasses.

"Drink?" Hawke offered the pirate with her right hand bringing up the glass in front of Isabela's face.

Isabela nodded and rubbed at her face for such a long time that when Hawke looked back she was momentarily shocked to see that Isabela was smirking at her through the crevices of her spaced out fingers. "You're so easy to read Hawke."

Hawke caught Isabela's gaze with narrowed, frustrated eyes because if there is one thing she hated more than Ander's manifesto it is how people always think it is proper to try and read her like a book; not only does she believe it to be rude but very much uncalled for.

"Why haven't you brought up what happened at the Hanged Man?" Isabela asked with a teasing laugh that makes Hawke's hackles rise slightly in anger despite how hard she willed herself to remain calm. "Come on Birdy, you usually bring this stuff up when it's bothering you. So what's the big deal?"

Hawke averted her eyes and continued to pour hers and Isabela's drink of rich Tevinter wine that was apparently made from the blood of slaves (a joke of course, strange that it was coming from Fenris of all people), only stopping when the wine reached the brim of both glasses.

She met Isabela's gaze again. "You're a selfish woman Isabela who doesn't understand when I'm trying to help you," with that she picked up Isabela's glass and started to move towards the Rivaini pirate. "I got that memento for you because I thought it would remind you of the sea, so that you didn't feel so stranded here."

Isabela rolled her eyes and drunk the wine that Hawke had given her down in one gulp before placing the glass down with amber eyes dancing in what looked like uncertainty. "Alright then fine, I guess I did overreact about the stupid ship. It's…" The pirate trailed off until she sighed and rested both of her legs over one arm of the armchair. "Fine, it's pretty cute."

Hawke risked a smile that in return made her face ache; it had been quite a while since she had done anything that even resembled smiling and now she was doing it so easily - almost as if it was by instinct. "I'm glad you like it. Now what do you want?"

Isabela giggled behind her hand and played with a stray curl that had escaped from underneath her bandana, giving the eldest Hawke a smile. "Sweet thing all I'm here for is to enjoy your marvellous company!"

"We normally end up arguing," Hawke answered in warning tone, gulping her own glass of wine down with a shudder as liquid courage quickly started to seep into her system. "Or worse, we end up actually fighting sometimes. Over the stupidest things."

"That's true I suppose, so what should it be tonight?" Isabela teased Hawke with a merry laugh with her nail trailing up and down her right cheek that was already warm due to the wine. "Your idiocy of charging into things that don't involve you just because you're a 'hero' or how you think my attitude reeks? Because this should be fun!"

Hawke placed her drink down with a glare that she knew inwardly wouldn't do anything but make Isabela grin even more at how she had once more managed to piss her off; it was like a little game they played to see how long both of them could bend one another until the other snapped. Tonight it seemed like it was going to be her.

"What is it with you? I know we both have low tolerances for one another at times but nothing like this!" Hawke found herself almost shouting at the pirate, taking a step forward so that her knees connected with Isabela's own over the arm of the chair. "What's bothering you so much that you're acting like this for the past three days?"

Isabela regarded her from underneath her dark eyelashes with a look of seriousness that completely knocked Hawke out for six; her hands gripping at the fabric of the armchair to steady herself enough that she didn't end up falling completely.

"You're the thing that's bothering me," Isabela finally managed to spit out with anger and something else that Hawke guessed to be confusion at worst or uncertainty at best. "It's like you're this itch that I just can't scratch and honestly it's just flaming annoying me to the point I'm losing to Anders at Wicked Grace!"

Hawke took a step back with her mouth hanging uselessly open by a mere inch, more than likely looking completely stupid but not at all caring because really? Isabela was losing to Anders? Because of her? Ridiculous.

It's hard to voice her own words however and soon Hawke found herself attempting to 'soothe' Isabela's mind.

"Uhm, really? How inconvenient for you." And of course it sounded patronizing even to her so Hawke suppressed her groan of irritation when in return Isabela snorted and look away from Hawke's blue eyes.

"It damn well is an inconvenience," Isabela muttered with another roll of her eyes that Hawke barely caught from where's she stood. "I owe him two sovereigns already and all because your goody two shoe acts won't leave me alone!"

Hawke couldn't help herself this time and let her laughter escape her with a shake of her head, moving forwards to rest the palms of her hands on the smooth skin of the pirate's thighs; still shaking with silent laughter that Isabela isn't really used to when it comes to Hawke.

"What? You're angry with me because I help people? And I'm genuinely nice to people who AREN'T talking out of their arse? THAT'S why you're upset with me?" Hawke stuttered out through her laughter, only sobering up from her hysterics a few moments later when she caught sight of Isabela's eyes once more. "Isabela, I didn't know that me helping others is such an inconvenience for you!"

Isabela growled underneath her breath because she recognized that tone, it was sarcastic and patronizing and something Isabela wouldn't genuinely mind if it wasn't directed at her.

She grabbed Hawke by the scruff of her collar (ignoring how the fabric rips underneath her sharp nails) and pulled until Hawke's hands travelled further up her thighs to land on the curves of her hips. "Don't you get it sweet thing? It's an annoyance because they're obviously using you! You're like a little errand girl who goes around doing everyone's job and poking your nose in everyone's business! And then there's the lack of fun about you! You don't even _drink_ with me!"

"I _was_ having a drink with you!" Hawke protested with a snarl that did nothing but make Isabela cling onto the fabric of Hawke's collar even tighter. "But go on Isabela! Tell me how you REALLY feel because I never knew you cared THIS much about how I go about my life!"

"I don't know why I care either!" Isabela retorted back with her amber eyes ablaze and it was true because she didn't know why she cared, although she did have a few guesses. "Maybe it might have something to do with how sometimes we actually get on with one another! Or maybe…"

Hawke watched with wide eyes as the pirate took a deep breath to continue her rant, ignoring the hot swell of lust that travelled through her body at the pace of a snail to settle in between her thighs; Maker's breath how was it fair to become so sexually frustrated over something when Isabela was too busy losing herself in anger and what Hawke hoped to be equal sexual frustration. Mostly because she wasn't an idiot and the looks that Isabela and herself sent to one another was far from platonic despite the heat they raised from one another when only using speech.

"…and I've realized that sometimes you get even grouchier with me if I don't let you finish eating your breakfast in the morning!"

Hawke's eyes flashed dangerously, ah yes she could remember that little fiasco when Isabela had such an urgent matter to see to that Hawke had abandoned her breakfast to only find out later on that the treasure she'd been expecting was in fact a chest fall to the brim with spiders.

"And you never let Martin have his poison either Hawke! What was the deal with that?" Isabela continued to rant with her back ramrod straight against the other arm of the chair she was sitting on.

"It kills people Isabela!" Hawke replied back in a bored tone because wasn't her answer to Isabela's question obvious enough?

"You kill people! You eat them for breakfast when I'm not interrupting!" Isabela grumbled back, all full of snark and sass and Hawke didn't know what possessed her to lean forward so her hands are gripping onto the arm that Isabela is resting her back on to stare deeply into the Rivaini's eyes; controlling herself not to move and instead to gaze and wait.

"I'll eat _**you**_ for breakfast!" Hawke breathed against Isabela's face with eyes full of blue fire and defiance that draws Isabela in like a moth to a flame and Hawke can't help but gasp in surprise when Isabela's mouth melded violently against her own.

Hawke made a brief attempt to pull her mouth away from the hot cavern of the pirate's mouth however was instantly brought to a halt when Isabela's sharp nails curved around the back of her neck, forcing her forward and causing her hands to sink deeper into the curve of Isabela's hips.

"Oh oh oh." Isabela smirked against Hawke's lips, tugging the lower (pouted) one with her teeth. "What do we have here?"

Hawke had always ignored her more primal urges back at Lothering when it came to dallying around with men and women, mostly because she was afraid she'd end up lighting one of them on fire in between but now, now she wanted to do just that. To give in.

She yanked herself away from Isabela's embrace as fast as she could and angled her face towards the burning inferno that was her fire, refusing to look back at the pirate even when she could hear the familiar squeak of Isabela's boots rubbing together.

"_Don't!_" Hawke growled when she risked a peek around her shoulder to see that the Rivaini was making her way towards her with a shit eating grin that Hawke didn't appreciate whatsoever. "Just don't touch me! I…"

"Oh sweet thing you really don't think I'm going to…" Isabela's voice is full of such smugness and arrogance that Hawke can't take it and with a snarl she gripped at the skin just below Isabela's elbows to hold her fast; ignoring the arousal that spiked up into her gut.

Isabela didn't want to talk now and of course Hawke's frustration quickly dispersed into something that instantaneously felt like desire which soon led her to drinking from Isabela's mouth like a doomed man taking in his very last breath.

The pirate grinned against her mouth and pushed at the armoured pauldron that adorned Hawke's right shoulder, her days at sea making Isabela's hands naturally light and devious as they unbuckled the leather straps that held the pauldron on her shoulder - letting it fall to the ground without one thought of picking it up.

Hawke held back a snarl of annoyance as her fingers stumbled nervously (and somewhat clumsily) over the thin white fabric cords of Isabela's corset and instead muttered magic underneath her breath, causing for her eyes to change to an eerie silver colour as the magic coiled through her body to warm up her fingertips.

_This is madness_, Hawke thought for a mere second before she was caught up in Isabela once more, allowing a high, shrilled sound to escape her lips when the Rivaini pirate tripped her up so that she landed on her back, winded.

Her eyes widened when Isabela knelt down with her knees on either side of her thighs, willing her hands not to shake and instead smooth and caress the soft barely-exposed skin of Isabela's thighs; silently wishing she could manage to wrestle the pirate out of those stupid boots so she could see what they hid.

But wait? Why _couldn't_ she?

Hawke arched with a hissed groan that tore at her insides when Isabela bent her head forward to suckle at Hawke's exposed neck, which led to Hawke only managing to mutter an almost silent, "_at vero_" before she threaded her fingers through the Rivaini's dark, luscious locks - tugging away Isabela's headscarf.

"What _the_…" Hawke heard Isabela whisper with a start, stopping what she was doing to look behind her and see that the boots were obeying Hawke's command and had unlaced themselves so that the leather hung freely from Isabela's toned legs.

Hawke didn't hesitate running her hands up the dark-skinned legs with a satisfied smirk touching her lips when the Rivaini pushed forwards with a small groan to capture Hawke's mouth with her own; allowing tongue and teeth to clash and for their nails to dig into one another's clothing.

Isabela tugged open the buckles and sash that held Hawke's armoured robes together and with a grunt she pulled Hawke up from her shoulders so she could lug the heavy thing off the mage's lithe body, leaving it settled near the fire place in a jumbled mess that Hawke knew she'd have trouble sorting out later.

Hawke exhaled noisily at the feel of Isabela's fingers on the tight, brown breeches she wore under her robes, cursing when the rogue giggled underneath her breath and curled her nails deep into the fabric above her crotch - the result being that Hawke let out a deep groan even as her hips bucked upwards, seeking the contact of Isabela's fingers.

It didn't help that she noticed she was half naked whereas Isabela (who was seemingly always naked in Aveline's and the rest of Kirkwall's eyes) had only lost her boots and her corset; leaving the pirate in the skimpy white dress that didn't honestly leave too much for imagination. But still. _It was in the way. _

"Am I going to do all the work here or are you going to take that flimsy thing off?" Hawke murmured breathlessly in Isabela's ear when the Rivaini leant her head down to suck at Hawke's pale exposed collarbone that shone in such an enchanting way in the light the fireplace gave.

Isabela shot her the filthiest look that Hawke had ever received and continued to kiss and suck at Hawke's collarbones, the apple of her cheek and just underneath her jaw, drawing little gasps and squeaks that Isabela would never have imagined in a million years coming from Hawke's mouth.

Hawke on the hand knew a challenge when she was set one and with a grunt she rolled the both of them over - despite how the heat of the fire warned her that doing so wouldn't be wise - with her hands pining down the laughing Isabela's wrists, teeth bared threateningly. "Why is it always a big challenge with you!"

Isabela bit her lip in a way that could only be described as _mocking _and shrugged as best as she could under Hawke's weight, eyes alight with mischief and that same smugness that was always underneath Isabela's thick layers of mischief and selfishness that Hawke desperately tried to fight each time they were together.

Her shoulders sagged and Hawke shook her head, a bead of sweat escaping from her matted hair to trickle down and settle at the bridge of her nose. Why couldn't she control herself around the damned pirate? Her passions were set ablaze whenever Isabela was near and sometimes it felt like her own blood was poison to herself.

With an exaggerated tug Hawke was rewarded with Isabela's bare body, sadly that had meant she had to let Isabela's hands free so she was pleasantly surprised at the feel of the pirate leaning up to lick and swirl her tongue around one of her nipples, her reaction being that she instantly wrapped her arms around the sweaty nape of Isabela's neck and pushed; her desperation for more overcoming her.

But this wasn't right, no she couldn't, wouldn't let her desire or feelings for Isabela overtake her completely and with an angry yank she freed Isabela's warm mouth from her nipple and slammed her back down against the carpet of the floor; cerulean eyes transforming into a pearly silver once she felt the magic spiral around at the bottom of her stomach again.

"_Vestrae sanguine ardere sub tactum_." Hawke rumbled huskily into the Rivaini's ear with a smirk, moving her hands up to grab at Isabela's calves and fasten them around her waist so that the rogue's ankles looped over one another.

The first thing Isabela noticed is that suddenly she felt like she's on fire (quite literally) whenever Hawke licked a warm, wet path up in between the valley of her breasts or basically whenever Hawke laid one single finger on her or even when Hawke's naked thighs pressed against her arse or even…

"_Glacies tactus!_" Hawke snarled and with her right hand - that had been cupping Isabela's breast - she slid it down the smooth, muscled stomach of the rogue's until her fingers caressed the pirate's outer labia.

It of course was a totally different reaction to Isabela who gasped and curled her body inwards, ankles gripping onto Hawke's lower back as though Hawke was the only thing that anchored her down.

"Shit! Hawke your hands are freezing!" Isabela panted against Hawke's cheek once the mage had leant up to tangle her tongue with Isabela's once again.

"I _know_," Hawke grinned with an aggressive thrust of two fingers that ended up being buried deep inside the pirate; making Isabela both groan and squeal in pleasure and discomfort as the cold of Hawke's fingers grew to new depths. "It's what you get for being a stubborn, selfish wench and making my passions rage when all I wanted was a quiet night in!"

"Sorry…" Isabela whimpered with her hips half way in between bucking or coiling away to get away from the cold of Hawke's fingers.

Instead of soothing Hawke, Isabela's words drove her on further and she bit down onto the Rivaini's shoulder until the rogue tugged and yanked at her hair in frustration as well as arousal.

"No you're not," Hawke gasped out with another wild shake of her head to get her sweaty dark hair out of her eyes as well as trying to keep the sweat from trickling down the base of her spine. "You're never sorry until it comes to bite you back in your ass!"

Isabela refused to argue, mostly because Hawke had a point but right now she was too busy trying to push Hawke's face down her body so she could get some real work done, this teasing and coldness was going to be the very death of her if Hawke wasn't careful.

Hawke would have teased Isabela senseless but she knew herself that Hawke was losing patience, so it didn't come to any big surprise to feel the very tip of the refugee-turned-noble's nose nuzzle at her entrance with vigour that rivalled Isabela's own.

"You're not even wearing any pants," Hawke grumbled with that rough, scratchy voice that one could only truly possess when arousal overtook both voice, body and mind. "Maybe I should get you a belt that protects your ever so precious lady parts…" - the sarcasm that dripped off Hawke made Isabela flinch at the unfamiliarity of the usual aggressive Hawke - "…to teach you a flaming lesson? It'd offer you more protection that's for sure."

Isabela rolled her eyes and fisted her fingers in the dark locks of the mage's hair, biting her lip to stop herself from crying out too loudly when Hawke moved her free hand up to pinch at her hip - sending an electric jolt all the way through Isabela's body to surprise her at how it was so pleasantly warm and tingly against the calloused skin of her hipbones.

Hawke breathed against her (hot, cold, damn electric) and with a jolt of her head Isabela couldn't stop herself from whimpering. "Andraste's tits Hawke _shut up _and get on with it!"

Hawke grunted and spread Isabela's knees further apart so she could lean down to lick a long stripe in between the pirate's legs, drawing a hushed groan from Isabela who in response arched her lips higher and higher towards the noble's mouth. Hawke pressed her tongue in deeper to answer Isabela's wordless protests and soon another finger followed, and then another that Hawke thrust into Isabela so viciously and firmly that Isabela's legs soon started to tremble over Hawke's shoulders.

Isabela wouldn't lie, this was pretty much what had happened between her and Anders ten-fold apart from the fact that Hawke was a woman and they both drove each other to the extremes with words and subtle smiles whereas Isabela had been able to control Anders through sheer will alone - she was pretty sure she'd get punched if she tried that on Hawke.

Not that she was going to try, she liked living thanks.

Yet when she felt Hawke's (ice cold) lips close around her clit and suck Isabela came with a sharp cry, arching her back and fisting her long fingers into Hawke's hair to keep the mage there so that her hips seemed to almost meld complacently with Hawke's mouth.

When her hips finally lowered Hawke moved away from her with a snort of indignation, turning away from the dazed pirate to pick at her robes and slipping them on before Isabela could protest such a notion.

"Well that was fun," Isabela teased once she had managed to regain her breath, sitting up on her elbows with a delicious fire in her eyes. "Who would have known all I had to do was work you up enough you'd _have _to fuck me?"

Hawke glared at her from over her shoulder once more, yet what shocked Isabela the most was how vulnerable the normally direct mage looked at that moment. "That wasn't fucking."

Isabela's eyes widened and with what she hoped Hawke wouldn't recognize as a nervous laugh she said, "you're not seriously suggesting 'feelings' are you? Hawke we can't stand one another at the best of times!"

Hawke turned on her then with fierce blue eyes that left no mistake this time at the helplessness in them, it was almost as if Isabela was looking at a dead-end future but this was Hawke she was looking at here - if anyone was going to succeed then it would be her.

"It's not my fault I'm rubbish at telling people what I'm feeling!" Hawke protested with another grumble, bending down to slip into her rough, leathered boots; an effective way of hiding her face. "And it's not like you make it easy for me either, you're always doing things that make my life harder than it has to be and…"

"Then why do you keep me around?" Isabela asked her with a growl and a shake of her head, getting up from the carpet of Hawke's estate's floor and slipping into her thigh-high boots - also effectively hiding her face as she bent to do the job. "If I'm such an irritation then WHY in the Maker's soiled underclothes do you keep me around?"

"Because I need you." Hawke averted her gaze after that and flopped back down into Leandra's armchair with a sigh, lazily rubbing at her forehead as if that would help her think better. It didn't.

Isabela rolled her eyes and enfolded her hair in her intricate, blue headscarf; careful to avoid scalping herself as she knotted and tied the ends of the scarf viciously in her anger at Hawke's most likely unintended words. "Don't treat me like a possession Hawke, don't you dare treat me like my husband did."

"Don't you dare compare me to him!" Hawke snarled back with teeth bared in the likeness of a wolf that was threatening its rival from their mate. Isabela was silently intrigued by it, that and it was always just that little bit endearing to see Hawke's hackles rise every time she mentioned her now dead-and-gone-and-good-bloody-riddance husband. "I would never treat you like a possession like he did, I'm glad that elven pretty boy killed him Zeloar. Zevbar. Whatever his damn name is."

Isabela's lips twitched into a smirk as she fastened her corset around her, adjusting the tightness so that her cleavage stood out as it usually did. "It's Zevran sweet thing."

"I don't care what his name is." Hawke replied back with what Isabela could only describe as a sulky pout. "I just don't understand why you're so scared of loving someone."

Isabela stiffened at the unusual lack of venom in Hawke's voice, especially around the subject of love which Hawke vehemently hated with a passion; mostly because Hawke hadn't really understood the concept of it much when she was at Lathering - Isabela guessed it had something to do with serious daddy issues.

"Unless…" Isabela risked a glance to see that Hawke was staring at her with her eyebrows knitted together in thought, pondering over her like she was a complex treasure map - it made the Rivaini's blood run cold. "That's not it at all is it? You're scared of hurting people because of being who you are. That's it, isn't it?"

Isabela knew the game well and with a haughty chuckle she forced her legs forward so she could escape and run; because that was what she was good at. Running away.

"That's not it at all Hawke because as usual you're barking up the wrong tree and…hey!" Isabela grounded to a stop at the feel of Hawke's fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist, forcing her to stare into the mage's dark eyes to see something that looked like a sick understanding.

"Isabela."

It was the only thing Hawke said and it still made Isabela feel sick to the stomach. She wrenched her arm away and continued on her way out to the estate.

She didn't need this right now. Right now all she needed was a stiff one. And a drink too.

* * *

><p><strong>I apologize for grammar and any glaring mistakes that I have failed to notice but that's because I'm just damn lazy...Anyways, sorry for people who were expecting a 'Ramen and Cherry Lambrini' or 'How (Not) To Date Your Best Friend' update. I'll be updating them as soon as I can. :) Thank you.<strong>


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